


Abandoned

by Preetyladyserenity



Category: The Simpsons
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 06:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4615170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Preetyladyserenity/pseuds/Preetyladyserenity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Synopsis: Charles Montgomery Burns has spent the last twenty years ignoring his assistants' feelings. But what happens when Waylon Smithers decides to call quits? And he means it. BurnsxSmithers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Part 1: The Letter

Disclaimer: The characters are mental children of Matt Groening and thus do not belong to me. But this twisted story does.

Charles Montgomery Burns looked up from his pea-soup to the younger man. The room was lit by candlelight and he could barely see his assistant's face. Waylon Smithers had been acting strangely lately. He could not quite put his finger to it but he knew that the younger man was different that he used to.

"Smithers," he barked and the other man shot up, "Where is your mind travelling to? I said I'm done with the soup."

"Oh," the man barely exclaimed and hurried to collect the plate and spoon. He gathered them quickly and retreated into the kitchen.

The owner of Springfield's Power Plant looked at him retreat, annoyance mixed with puzzlement. Waylon Smithers Jr. had stopped asking silly questions about how he found his cooking a month ago. Thinking about it this was the same period he started acting strangely.

The younger man had become – how could he define it – distant probably. He stopped speaking to him, he was losing focus, and he was not even affected when he told him he found him to be a nuisance. He just smiled glumly and told him he was sorry for this.

"I lost my appetite," he announced when the younger man served him the main dish of grilled steak, "I need you to help me prepare for bed Smithers."

The younger man looked at the plate for a few seconds before saying "certainly sir" and helping him stand.

-)-)-)

"I've put food in the fridge for the weekend sir. Your cook can take care of the heating I hope," Waylon commented as he helped the older man into his bed.

"Are you going away for the weekend Smithers?" the older man asked in amazement. It was rare for his assistant to spent time away from him. For a moment he felt something similar to disappointment but he could not define the reason for it.

"Yes sir. I won't be in Springfield till Monday morning at work time. So I arranged for your other driver to take you to work," Smithers commented as he fluffed the pillows.

Charles Montgomery Burns watched Smithers' hands fondling his pillow, arranging the bed covers and he grumbled. In his age he hated changes. That boy should have known that already.

"I'll be seeing you on Monday morning then," he grumbled angrily and for a second he was taken aback as he noticed Waylon had an expression of misery. That man seemed in distress, it seemed that something was troubling him. He opened his mouth to ask him about it but he changed his mind immediately. He had never cared for anyone and he wasn't going to start now.

The man moved away and closed the curtains. He went towards the door and stopped. They both looked at each other, the younger man as if expecting something from him. The older man looked at him wondering what he was supposed to tell him. Finally Smithers bowed his head.

"Take care sir," he wished him glumly and exited the room, closing the door behind him.

-)-)-)

The weekend passed away very slowly. It was one of the most boring weekends he had experienced. Charles Montgomery Burns almost jumped out of his bed in excitement on Monday morning, but he quickly remembered that in his old age that was slightly uncomfortable. He had admit it though that spending two days alone was more exhausting than any of Smithers' antics and planned events.

Monty Burns' lips curled to a scowl. It was amazing but the younger man's image had vexed him for the entire weekend. His annoying presence was surely missed.

"No," he thought, "Waylon isn't annoying. He is… what is the word? . . . Frustrating!"

He sighed. It was true. Waylon Smithers Jr. was clingy. He could even say that he was more jealous that any of his female lovers. It was odd really. It wasn't that he had not noticed the young man's strange behaviour towards him. He had realised it years ago that the younger man held a strange infatuation for him. He had spent years being mean, putting him down. And the more he put him down the more Waylon chased after him. And then the more the young man chased after him, the more he enjoyed it.

The old man's lips unfolded to a twisted smile. It was sadistic but Waylon's love for him made him feel more and more powerful and alive each single day. It was probably because he enjoyed being loved unconditionally despite the fact that he could be so cruel. So the more Waylon smiled, the more he pushed the younger man's buttons, crushing him to pieces – rejecting him.

The twisted smile faded. And yet…

There were moments Monty Burns wished he wasn't so mean. There were moments a voice echoed in his head making him feel bad about how he treated the younger man. And then... Then a fear would seize him. A fear that one day Waylon would just go away and he would end up all alone.

He snorted at the notion. Smithers was a ninny. He would never leave him. He didn't have the guts to do so. That idea was simply unimaginable. He fixed his tie's knot and left the room.

-)-)-)

When Charles Montgomery Burns entered Smithers' office to go into his own, he did not expect that he was about to receive a lifetime's worth of shock.

Smithers' office area was clean, clean and empty from all personal belongings. The young man's business books were missing. The photograph's on his desk too! He moved closer to inspect. Even the brass tag with Smithers' name was missing.

A pang of shock and-could he have called it? – fear seized him. He opened the desk's drawers. They were empty and clean. He hurried into his office immediately and there it was, in the middle of his own desk's surface, a blue envelope. He sat down and took it in his ancient hands. Waylon Smithers' handwriting was addressing him. He took a letter opener and tore the envelope open carefully.

"Dear Sir,

I cannot count the times I have started writing this letter. Each time I tore the paper in regret and fear. Each time I felt too weak to write it down so I did the only thing I could. I destroyed it and moved on working as if nothing has ever taken place. But not this letter. Not this time. This time I am determined to finish this letter. I have to say what I have been hiding for the last twenty years.

I am in love with you. I do not know when this happened. I do not know why this happened. All I know that it did happen and ever since I have lived my whole life in secret.

At first I thought this was just a phase I went through. That it would go away. I mean I was married and I had married my wife out of love. The thing is that this love never did. It kept going on and on, eating my soul away because you remained totally indifferent.

I know you are aware of my feelings for you. It would be an insult to believe that the most ruthless man in the world, and the most intelligent I have ever met, is an innocent old man that has not realised that his assistant is in love with him. So I decided to humble myself until you realised that my love for you is unlimited.

Yet my feelings were never returned. It seems that you just drew pleasure from seeing me act like a love-struck idiot. You probably made fun of me, called me a fool. I kept thinking that I was worthless of your love, I even started drinking. There were days I could not go to sleep unless I had drunk two bottles of whiskey. And then came the turning point.

A year ago I almost died because you could not afford my thyroid medicine and you sir, you smuggled my medicine from Canada and when it did not work you gave me that mouth-to-mouth.

You will never understand how I felt. I was ecstatic! I thought that in order for you to go into the trouble of smuggling my medicine in order to lean down and give me that "kiss" that had to be a sign that you held feelings for me too. I soon discovered that I was only an idiotic fool.

Nothing happened. You became crueler every single day. It was really an eye-opener. I was nothing to you. It really was the inconvenience of training another assistant that caused you to save my life. I just looked at myself and I was horrified. What a big idiot I have been! I had spent the last twenty years chasing a chimera and now I could not stop. So I had two options. I could either fight my addiction with a new addiction or I had to go cold turkey on you. Since drinking and smoking do not seem to work anymore, I chose the latter.

I, Waylon Smithers, decided that I am going to resign from the position of your assistant. In fact two months ago I remembered that my five-year contract is coming to an end. I know you are in shock now. "Smithers has a contract?" you are wondering. Yes I do and always seem to forget about it. Yet this instance I decided not to remind you about the end of it. My contract ended on Saturday evening. I am not longer part of Springfield's Power Plant's personnel. In the envelope there is a copy of my old contract. It was a pleasure working with you but I really need to move on.

Sincerely yours,

Waylon Smithers Jr."

Charles Montgomery Burns looked at the letter and then at the old contract. He kept looking at them; puzzlement turning to disbelief and then to anger. He clenched his fists, shot up, tossed the crumbled letter away and picked up the telephone's receiver. He pressed a few button, muttering angrily under his breath.

"Ahoy there," he said quickly, "Tell my driver to start my limo and wait for me. Where to? A Bloody Idiots' House!"

Hmm what do you think? I always thought that Burns must know of Smithers' feelings. He toyed too many times with his soul to be ignorant. So this little story sprouted from the idea that most people realise what they have lost when they actually lose it.


	2. The meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monty Burns confronts Smithers upon his decision to leave the Plant and discovers his assistant will not come back so easily.

“Smithers!” he shouted ringing the doorbell non-stop, “Smithers open the bloody door before I hire some goons to break it down. Smithers!”

The door opened and for a few seconds Charles Montgomery Burns was speechless. Waylon Smithers Jr. stared at him with a scowl of displeasure, the same one a parent gives to a spoilt child. 

“How dare you!” the old man growled in anger, “After all these years! After all that time! With a letter? What are you? A coward?” he exclaimed hotly and shoved his way into Smithers’ apartment.

“It’s my decision” Waylon Smithers started only to be interrupted by the older man’s snort. 

Smithers felt his blood boiling, painting his cheeks red.

“Pish-posh! What is it? Were you approached by someone with more money? What could he possibly offer you that I don’t?”

“I can’t believe how arrogant you are!” Smithers heard his voice thunder in the space of his small apartment, “It’s not about money. It’s about you, you old coot!”

Waylon Smithers Jr. clasped his mouth with his left hand. He had been expecting Mr. Burns’ outburst ever since he had taken the decision to leave but when he imagined their confrontation he was always calm. Now for the first time in his life, he had screamed at Mr. Burns. He was so mad at him! How dare he accuse him of leaving him just for money’s sake? Especially since he had just read the letter he had spent months agonising over, tearing it and writing it over and over again.

“So you mean to tell me that you just decided one day that you could no longer love me… What a bunch of bollocks Waylon! This can’t be about something as idiotic as feelings.”

“Well it is about something as idiotic as feelings,” the younger man replied hotly, “But you wouldn’t know that because you never loved anyone in your life didn’t you?”

“You don’t know me Smithers!” Mr. Burns shot back angrily, but quickly composed himself, “I am no ordinary man Smithers. I won’t take no for an answer,” he hissed dangerously and moved so close to him that their noses were almost touching, “I don’t believe you grasped the full extent of our situation Smithers. You are MY assistant and I am NOT letting you go!”

Waylon Smithers Jr. cursed himself for the goose bumps he felt and for the blush that, we was sure, had spread on his features. He was still in love with the old man. He knew his feelings wouldn’t seize just because he had decided to do so. 

“Well too bad you forgot about my contract then. I am no longer your assistant,” he found the words to utter, his voice soft and unsure.

Charles Montgomery Burns stared at the younger man for a few seconds and then much to Smithers’ shock he gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Waylon Smithers Jr. shot up in shock, moved backwards, lost his step and landed on the blue couch. 

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” he shouted in shock, touching his cheek and turning red in embarrassment. 

“A kiss Smithers,” Mr. Burns replied icily, “I was under the impression you were madly in love with me as you so boldly wrote in that letter.”

“Are you insane? You can’t go around kissing people like that – And what did you expect me to do? Get so awed by the kiss I will sign a contract again?” he shouted, his voice trembling a little by the shock.

Reality was that the younger man was awed by the kiss. He was so much awed he was ready to sign a contract for half the salary he used to get paid if that meant he would be near Mr. Burns. Yet he had to control himself. He spent twenty years with the old man to know that Mr. Burns would take unimaginable measures to control someone.

“Well to be honest,” Mr. Burns answered coolly and without a hint of remorse, “I did thought so. You are soft Smithers. You won’t really mind my behaviour if you get a peck on the cheek every once in awhile.” 

“THAT’S IT!” Waylon Smithers shouted and shot up, his outburst causing the older man to take a step back in fear, “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW!”

Waylon Smithers Jr. had passed half his adult life torn between his love for the older man and an uncontrollable need to punch him for being so arrogant. So that moment when he stood up, he really believed that he was about to give him a blow.

“Smithers…”

Charles Montgomery Burns had uttered his name so softly it almost had a soothing effect. Smithers looked at Mr. Burns that let out a sigh of defeat.

“…I don’t want you to leave,” the old man admitted with a voice so soft he was barely heard, “I don’t know how to survive without you. I can’t be without you.”

“I really need you to leave my house sir,” Smithers muttered softly and looked away.

“I promise I will try…”

“I said I am not coming back!”

“Waylon I…”

“Just go away. Leave me alone!” Smithers almost screamed and opened the door, practically tossing the older man out of his apartment. 

Chares Montgomery Burns looked at the closed door and moved towards his limousine. He opened the door, sat down and spoke through the car’s intercom.

“Close driver’s cabin and drive around for awhile before taking me home. I need to think.”

In the isolation of the passenger’s compartment Charles Montgomery Burns realised his cheeks were moist. He brought his index to his eyes and to his disbelief he discovered there were tears in his eyes.

“I must have gone mad!” he muttered to himself in amazement.

-)-)-)

Charles Montgomery Burns knew one thing for sure. He did not want anyone but Waylon Smithers Jr. for his assistant. He simply refused to replace the one person in the Power Plant that he did not see as a pawn.

The old man stared at the lit fire in the fireplace, lost in his thoughts.

It had been a week since Smithers had resigned. He was very surprised that Smithers had lasted away from him that long. That boy had the stubbornness of a mule. During that week Monty Burns had the time to think. What was Smithers to him?

If he was asked not so long ago he would probably answer something like ‘a good assistant.’ In the case he was in a good mood that is. In most occasions Monty Burns would let out a snort of annoyance as an answer to the question. Reality was, and he hated to admit it, that Waylon was more than he pretended to perceive him as. 

Secretly Waylon Smithers Jr. was more precious to him than anyone he had ever met. When he has called him the sober ying to his raging yang it was true. Smithers caused him to be more considerate. He always saved his image in public occasions. And he always seemed to be the sound of logic when he got angry.

When he had realised that Waylon was in love with him he was in such a state of shock. He had never had a man fall in love with him before. To be honest, no woman had ever fallen in love with him either. It was always him doing the chasing. It was such a pleasant surprise. Yet, this was the point when he started treating the younger man harshly.   
At the beginning he did so because he believed that Smithers was bound to fall out of love soon, so the sooner this happened the better. Yet Waylon never did so. He just continued being in love with him.

This kind of love scared Charles Montgomery Burns. It was so powerful but at the same time it caused him to think of his reaction towards it. There were days that he caught himself having an expression all because Smithers did something for him. Like that time they were walking in the rain and Waylon drew him closed to his body, shielding him from the raindrops with the umbrella they were sharing. Or like that other time that he got a high fever and almost died in the hospital. Smithers never left his bedside. Thinking about such situations caused him to have a silly smile and sometimes his heart would skip a beat.

That scared him! It scared him because he was too old to discover he could be attracted to a man. He was too old for someone to get interested in him for long. He was afraid that while Smithers wished for him to return the feelings back, he would get bored of him once this would happen. He was old! He was thrice the man’s age. It was bound not to work. He was just too old. Too old to get his heart broken once the younger man decided he was bored of him. He was sure he would not survive the disappointment. 

Monty Burns was shocked by the realisation. Sitting there and thinking he realised for the first time that the possibility of having a romantic relationship with Smithers did not seem queer or outrageous to him. On the contrary it seemed as natural as having a relationship with a woman. To his greater surprise, Charles Montgomery Burns realised that not only he had thought of Waylon Smithers as a partner before, it really seemed he liked him a lot. Problem was that Waylon Smithers Jr. was now too stubborn to see that the feeling was mutual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Burns met with Smithers and yes he is a major jackass. Also Smithers has started to develop a spine. How interesting…


	3. The attempt

Disclaimer: The characters are mental children of Matt Groening and thus do not belong to me. But this twisted story does. 

Synopsis: Charles Montgomery Burns has spent the last twenty years ignoring his assistants' feelings. But what happens when Waylon Smithers decides to call quits? And he means it. BurnsxSmithers.

\--------------------------------------------------------

    
One thing was certain. Both Waylon Smithers Jr. and Charles Montgomery Burns were really stubborn men. As a result, the latter would not stop until he would reach his goal. And that goal, as corny, as it sounded to him, was Smithers’ heart. Like he had done with lady-friends before, he went to a florist and bought a bunch of flowers. He wasn’t really sure on whether that worked on both men and women, but he felt that offering Smithers flowers was a good idea. He did not buy roses though. It seemed too sweet and disgusting to him – he bought a big bunch of sunflowers. Somehow they seemed to fit Smithers.

Nevertheless when he found himself in front of Smithers’ door he felt extremely uneasy and nervous. He inhaled deeply, convinced himself that he was courageous enough and after a lot of hesitation he knocked the door.  
No one answered.

He knocked once more. No response from Smithers. 

Then Monty Burns let out a snort for his idiocy. Smithers was not bound to be there. For all he could know he could be working or job-hunting or even dating someone. He clenched his fists in anger at all three notions. Waylon giving any kind of attention to anyone caused his blood to boil in anger. And then he felt nervous.

There he was standing in front of Smithers’ doorway with flowers in his hands. He could only imagine what the tabloids would write if a paparazzo – or was it paparazzi? – photographed him. He could hear the snickering echoing in his head. Poor ol’ Monty Burns lost it – He’s chasing after his assistant, sexually harassing him. Is that why Smithers quit? Yes all that would be discussed over and over again.

But most of all what was he supposed to say to Smithers anyway? Hello I saw these flowers and bought them for you? Please date me? What really? What if Smithers laughed at him? 

He got pale and turned to leave. He was close to the condo’s staircase when he bumped into someone carrying a mountain of paper grocery bags. He took a step back, barely managing not to lose his step.

“Hey watch it-“

“I am sorry-“

They both stared at each other. Charles Montgomery Burns let out a soft curse. This could only happen in a movie. What are the chances for someone to bump into the person he likes at the moment he is trying not to meet him? One in a million? Yet, there was Smithers in front of him, holding grocery bags.

“Sir! I mean Mr. Burns! What do you want here?”

“It’s none of your bloody business,” he answered defensively and tried to hide a bunch of flowers behind his back, “I certainly didn’t drive here all the way for you Smithers,” he hissed.

“Oh ok,” Waylon Smithers Jr. shrugged and moved away towards his apartment.

“Wait!” the older man’s voice called him, “Won’t you ask for whom I bought these flowers?”

“Well you just said this isn’t of my bloody business,” Waylon Smithers shrugged, his heart skipping a beat.

“Don’t be cheeky Smithers! Since you really want to know – well – I have a lady friend and I was going to pick her up but she cancelled our date - so here I am stuck with these flowers. Here you can have them! See if I care!” he scoffed in anger and shoved the bunch of flowers into the younger man’s hands.

He then turned around and left Smithers looking at him in puzzlement.

“You’re so stupid! What are you? A ten-year old or something?” he reprimanded himself as he drove his limo, “What was the point of driving all the way to his house to tell him you have had a supposed date and then give him the flowers?”

He growled. This was harder than it seemed.

-)-)-)

Charles Montgomery Burns stepped out of his limo, turned to the man that was currently his driver and gave instructions on where to wait for his call. This was the first stupid gathering he had to attend ever since Smithers had left him. It had been what – two weeks since that Monday morning? – and Waylon Smithers had still not returned to work.

The owner of Springfield’s Power Plant felt depressed. He had to accept it. Waylon Smithers was never going to return. It was even more dejecting that Smithers had never called back to even inquire about his behaviour and the flowers. It was really true. Waylon Smithers Jr. had gone cold turkey on him and he was going to avoid him like the plague.

He could not be that bad could he? After all they had spent the last twenty years together. It was as if whatever love Smithers supposedly held for him had completely disappeared. 

He sighed and looked at the mansion’s open doors. Gatherings such as the one he was about to attend were hell to bear through. There were mostly filled with lazy idiots that wanted him to fund the idiotic ideas they called projects. Eight out of ten times these projects were a waste of time, effort and money. Smithers would usually scan the room with his eyes, think of a plan on how to avoid most of those idiots and how to move in such a manner as to speak with people with good business proposals. Yet, that evening he had to deal with this mayhem himself.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t ol’ Monty Burns! Where is your Wonder Boy tonight?”

“Adamopolis” Monty Burns hissed trying to force his features to show a civil expression. Truth was that he detested Adamopolis for a reason he could not explain. A rivalry had started between them when the much younger businessman had opened the rival Nuclear Power Plant in Shelbyville. 

Furthermore Adamopolis constant reference to Smithers as Burns’ “Wonder Boy” had caused him much embarrassment and had produced the ironic chuckles from other business associates. Usually when Adamopolis would attend the same gala as him, Smithers had to suffer an extra dosage of insults in the week following it.

“I’d rather have it if you don’t call my assistant a ‘Wonder Boy’ Adamopolis. How would you like it if I called your assistant ‘the blond retard’? We all know he’s an imbecile but we don’t call him like that out loud,” Burns answered caustically and started climbing the stairs to the manor’s open entrance leaving the younger businessman glaring at him.

Entering the room he froze to his step in shock. There he stood, a few meters away, dressed in a black tuxedo, holding a glass of Champaign and chattering idly; Waylon Smithers Jr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously thinking of Burns I can so see him screwing on his first attempt of reconciliation with Smithers. A man with pride is doomed to fail. Also I know… Major idiotic cliff-hanger here.


	4. The Gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Synopsis: Charles Montgomery Burns has spent the last twenty years ignoring his assistants' feelings. But what happens when Waylon Smithers decides to call quits? And he means it. BurnsxSmithers

Part 4 - The gala 

Disclaimer: The characters are mental children of Matt Groening and thus do not belong to me. But this twisted story does. 

\----------------------------------------------------------

Monty Burns moved quickly and stood behind the younger man. Forcing a fake smile, he proceeded by patting Smithers’ shoulder.

“I see you’ve met with my left hand!” he said baring his teeth with a forced expression of delight, causing the young businessman that talked with Smithers to take a step back in fear.

“Sir, it’s a right hand,” Smithers blurted out, unable to control himself; amazement drawn in his features.

“Of course, of course! Smithers here is such a valuable asset so I can’t be without him, not even for a moment. In my old age I confuse right and left all the time. If you excuse me I need him for a moment,” he concluded with a wolfish grin and stirred Smithers away, who had no time to protest. 

“What are you doing here?” Charles Montgomery Burns hissed dangerously, squeezing the younger man’s forearm.

“I’m attending the gala.”

“Tell me Smithers, were you born with the annoying ability to state the obvious or did it develop with the idiocy as years passed by? You know what I mean…How come you are here?”

“Since you wish to know,” Smithers answered indifferent to the older man’s outburst, “I was invited by Mr Gellar’s – he’s our host sir – assistant. It seems the news I am no longer your assistant are still not out so I thought it was a good opportunity for PR.”

“Don’t be cheeky Smithers,” Mr. Burns hissed angrily, “I’ll have you know that such attitude is not welcomed by businessmen.”

“Well my attitude while working with you didn’t do me good either,” the younger man remarked trying to hide his disappointment, “Anyways, sir, please excuse me,” he concluded with a faint smile and moved away.

Monty Burns watched as Waylon Smithers Jr. beamed and shook hand with Adamopolis. He glared at their direction and his blood boiled in anger. He really wished he could just go and cuff the young man and the tell him to wake up from whatever trance he was put into.

“Mr Burns!” a bleating voice brought him back to reality and caused him to cringe. He would recognise that voice anywhere. 

Mrs. Jenny Langston had an annoying bleating voice that reminded him of a sheep, was a widow, invested her dead husband’s fortune to the stupidest ideas and always, always pressured him to contribute money to those ideas as well. Late Sam Langston was an old friend of his and his widow thought she could bother him with what she perceived as ‘ingenious’ ideas.

“I have just the product for us to invest on!” she bleated once more.

“Oh do tell,” Mr. Burns commented forgetting that Mrs. Langston was irony-immune, “What is it this time? Ping-pong balls that will bounce back and forth on their own making rackets and players useless?”

“Oh nonsense! Mr. Burns you do like to tease me,” she laughed, “It’s just plain magnificent. You simply must listen to this great product I was told to invest on. Poor Harry only needs one more million to start its produce.”

“And what is this product my dear?” he asked with sign, feigning interest. To his bad luck Mrs. Langston was still in charge of one of Belleview’s wealthiest companies and so he needed to be on her good side.

“I’m not really sure Mr. Burns. I don’t really get mechanics much. But I’m sure Harry will give you a much better explanation. Oh Harryyyyy!!! Harry-dear!” 

Charles Montgomery Burns noticed that Harry-dear was at least twenty years younger than the woman and had the look of a man that used his good looks to get what he wanted. If there wasn’t one of his millions at stake Monty Burns would probably approve that man’s way of getting things. He had done it himself as well when he was younger. 

“Madam, I really need to go,” Mr. Burns insisted, “I need to…”

“He needs to go out for his dosage of fresh air. You know how fragile his lungs are,” Smithers’ voice intruded and he felt Waylon’s hand on his shoulder.

Monty Burns could barely hold himself from hugging Smithers and kissing him. That man was a life-saver, irritating as he may was lately.

“Oh certainly Mr. Smithers,” Mrs. Lodge said in disappointment.

“Do not be disappointed madam. You can call Mr. Burns’ office anytime and I will schedule an appointment with him. Once Mr. Burns returns from his upcoming Hong Kong trip. Now sir shall we?” he concluded and holding Mr. Burns by the wrist he dragged him to the veranda.

“Smithers what do you think you….?” Monty Burns exclaimed.

“Old habits die hard I guess,” he interrupted as they walked toward the veranda, “I just saw her and I know how annoying she can be – I had to chat with her on the phone all the time. I just couldn’t let you go through that.”

“You aren’t my assistant anymore,” Mr. Burns reminded him, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

“That wasn’t an act of an assistant’s devotion was it Smithers?”

Waylon Smithers Jr. did not respond to the remark. He just stared at the older man seriously.

“Well I better return inside,” he commented and turned to his heels, “I left a conversation to help you.”

Charles Montgomery Burns didn’t know what had seized him when he turned around to grasp Waylon Smithers by the sleeve. He really hated sentimental stuff. He found them to be weak and ludicrous, but here he was grasping the younger man’s sleeve like a love-struck maiden.

Smithers looked at him in puzzlement unable to react.

Monty Burns let go of his sleeve instantly as if it had burnt his hand. They stared at each other. A pang was heard and a firework erupted filling the dark sky with a mushroom of green stars.

“I’m sorry. It’s nothing,” the old man whispered as another firework erupted filling the sky with golden colours.

Waylon Smithers turned to leave.

“Wait!” Mr. Burns found himself calling out. The younger man turned once more, a bit annoyed this time. Monty Burns knew he had to tell him because as much as he knew this may was the last time he ever saw Smithers. Once the news were out that he no longer worked for him then their contact would get limited.

“Ok Smithers listen to this good and get it in your thick skull because…” he felt his voice quivering, his breath getting heavy and difficult, “ahem – I’m not used to say this out loud. Smithers I am very fond of you. This is not about the job…It’s about you… over…over the years… I think… I got to like you…I...like…you…more…than… more than anything else in the world. So…please…forgive me… and… and love me again.”

His breathing got harder and harder. His chest panged and hurt. His knees got weak, his head lighter and then he realised it. His heart had stopped. He felt himself losing his balance – he saw the horror in Waylon’s features and as he drifted out of consciousness he felt his fingers clutching the younger man’s shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the not-so-stupid second and final cliff-hanger. Two more chapters left before this story finishes.


	5. The hospital

Part 5 - The hospital

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Charles Montgomery Burns opened his eyelids and wondered where he was. It took him a few seconds to recognise the smell of antiseptic and the white ceiling he saw as Springfield’s hospital. He remembered. He recalled the gala and, to his embarrassment, that confession of love he gave Smithers. He blushed. He had made a total fool of himself by getting a heart-attack. Well a heart-stop to be definite. 

“Well, well, rise and shine,” Dr. Hilbert said with a chuckle, “You’ve got us worried for a moment Mr. Burns. Well, him to say more accurately.”

The old man turned his head towards the direction Dr. Hilbert had nodded with his head and saw Smithers sitting on a chair, snoring soundly. His tuxedo’s jacket was on the chair and his bowtie and collar were undone.

“He was giving you the First Aid when the ambulance came for you. He was livid, crying and he just wouldn’t let you go even for a second. When I announced that there was a high probability you were really dead this time… well I won’t go into too much details. I am just going to tell you we had to get him sedated. Yet, once again you had the medical system amazed Mr. Burns. Your heart started beating once again five minutes after you arrived here. I was expecting a brain damage but you proved one of a kind. I don’t think Springfield will lose you anytime soon. ”

“Dr. Hilbert, I wish to be left alone for awhile,” Monty Burns said wearily, “Oh and may I have a cup of water please?”  
Truth to be told, Charles Montgomery Burns was not the patient type. He looked at Smithers as he took a sip from the cup and quickly poured the rest of the water over the younger man’s head. 

Waylon Smithers Jr. shot up startled from the sudden shower of water and gasped to find air. He looked around in shock and then saw Mr. Burns staring at him. He immediately shot up and hugged the older man tightly.

“Smithers get off me… cannot breathe!”

The younger man made no attempt to release him. He did loosen his grasp though.

“Smithers someone might see us,” Monty Burns remarked with a blush as the hug seemed to indefinitely continue. “Smithers stop crying, my shoulder is getting wet.”

“It’s all my fault. If I had not resigned… If I didn’t make you through all this… Oh God you almost died!” the man cried out, angry with himself, “I am so, so sorry sir!” 

“Smithers just sit on the freakin’ chair will you?” Mr. Burns shouted impatiently, shoving him away with all his might.  
Waylon Smithers sat down, his eyes red and swollen and sniffled. Monty Burns looked at the small table near his bed and saw a packet of tissues. Taking some he protruded them to the younger man.

“Here, wipe your nose and eyes, stop sniffling and listen to me carefully… Even if the easiest thing right now is for me to confirm your self-accusations and turn whatever spine you have developed to smithereens – well I won’t. I seem to have grown fond of your insolence so do listen to me very carefully. This wasn’t your fault. I am older than most of the people in this city. For all I could know I might die any second now. Now the question is… Are you willing to go through that?”

“Huh?” the younger man let out, making him snort.

“Smithers do I really need to repeat myself again? I like you a lot. I don’t care if this is going to make you return to work – I don’t care if you won’t believe me but it’s the truth… Heaven’s Sake Waylon stop looking at me like an idiot and say something!”

“I…” Smithers started and blushed furiously. He took off his glasses and wiped them with one of the tissues he held. “All I can say sir is that the feeling is more that mutual,” he said with a faint smile as he cleaned the lenses.

“Smithers,” Mr. Burns insisted, “Do you realise that I might die any second now? Do you realise I am a cruel old man that will continue to treat you horribly without noticing it? Do you realise I may not be able to show you any affection?”

“Do you realise I don’t care?” Smithers asked with a smile, “Oh and you can be affectionate if you want to. Those flowers were for me weren’t they? I live in an all-men condo.”

“Wait a second… You mean to tell me that you knew that those sunflowers were for you?” the older man asked angrily, “And that you pretended not to care?” he pouted.

“Well I did want to scald you a bit. Plus you are so cute when you are frustrated.”

“I’M NOT CUTE!” he screamed with a blush, “OH AND I DON’T LIKE YOU THAT MUCH! AND STOP GIVING ME THAT SMUG LOOK SMITHERS! SCRATCH THAT, I DON’T LIKE YOU ANYMORE! JUST GET OUT! WHERE THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING YOUNG MAN?”

“You just told me to leave and I really need to change and have a shower. I’ll be back in the afternoon.”

“Humph! I don’t care! Do you hear me?” Mr. Burns answered back in defence.

“Yes you do,” Smithers replied smiling and waved goodbye.

“Argh!” Charles Montgomery Burns growled in frustration and put his face in his hands, “This man will be the death of me.” 

-)-)-)

“Why did you come? I said I don’t want you around anymore,” Monty Burns growled grumpily while the younger man accompanied him to his car.

Unlike his limo, Waylon’s car was an old small mini that they crammed themselves into. The old man sat quietly through their journey, watching Smithers drive, while he secretly thought that the younger man looked very handsome when he shifted the gears.

“Smithers,” he spoke feeling nervous and embarrassed, “Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow evening?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Smithers answered calmly as he stopped at a red, “but I thought you didn’t want me around anymore.”

“Smithers…” he growled at him wearily.

“I’m just kidding sir,” Waylon said with a smile, “Where to?”

“Leave that to me,” Mr. Burns replied with a smile,” What on earth?” he exclaimed in shock.

Out of the blue Smithers swerved the car and stopped near the sidewalk with a screech. A car passed next to them, the driver shouted out a curse at them and moved by. Waylon turned to see Monty Burns in amazement.

“Sir – Monty – did you just ask me out on a date?” he asked in utter shock, red painting his cheeks.

“Oh no what gave you that idea? Of course I asked you on a date Smithers!”

“I’m sorry. It is that we’ve gone out for dinner before and when I said yes I was thinking you were talking about that kind of dinner. But then you said you will arrange for our outing and you always do this when you date – oh I’m speaking a lot aren’t I?”

“In a matter of fact you do,” the older man pointed.

They drove to his mansions, Smithers remaining quiet and embarrassed through the rest of their journey. Charles Montgomery Burns felt his heart drop in disappointment. Smithers’ outburst, his quietness after that… Smithers didn’t want to date him after all. Who would want to be seen dating an old man anyways?

“Smithers…”

“Sir…”

Monty Burns snorted at how awkward things were becoming between them.

“Smithers, if you don’t want to go out on a date with me then…”

“What? No!” Smithers interrupted immediately, “I… just… it was so unexpected. I am really happy.”

“Are you sure?” he asked him raising an eyebrow, relief slowly sinking in. 

“Yes, yes I am! Shall I drop by the mansion at eight tomorrow?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You really thought I could kill the old coot? Nah I wouldn’t. And I am so happy “weekend at burnsies” came out since I can make Burn’s heart beating again at will canon. He did it then, he can do it now.   
> Ok last chapter coming next week if all goes well.


	6. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter: Burns discovers tha dating Smithers is tricky.

The Date – by preety-lady-serenity  
Disclaimer: The characters are mental children of Matt Groening and thus do not belong to me. But this twisted story does.  
By eight o’ clock the following evening Charles Montgomery Burns had to stop himself from cancelling the date over a dozen times. As time drew closer he felt more and more panicked. What was he, an old man, doing going out on a date? Especially with a man! Most people his age did not date. Well thinking about it most people his age were dead.  
And yet… Yet he did want to do this with Smithers. He did want to be with him. Strange as it may was he did want to try this out. It was terrifying and totally surreal but he did want to be liked by Smithers and spent the rest of their days together. There was the issue of affection, nevertheless. He had to do things with Smithers.  
He felt his face flaming in embarrassment.   
Could he do that? Smithers would expect kisses and hugs and he did not know how to cope with that! He never did them in public. He wasn’t even sure he could perform when he was with a woman! He wasn’t sure he was ready to be affectionate. And then… Then Smithers would be disappointed with him. He would get tired of him and leave him for someone who could do them. Smithers would disappear from his life forever and it would be so easy because he was no longer tied to him by contracts. He was going to lose the only person that ever meant something to him. He…  
“Good evening sir!” a voice startled him, making him jump in shock.  
“SMITHERS YOU IMBECILE!” he screamed anger mixed with sudden shock, “DO YOU WANT TO KILL ME? DON’T THEY HAVE A DOORBEL AT YOUR VILLAGE?”  
“I’m sorry,” Smithers answered defencively, “I just opened the door with my keys out of habit! There’s no reason to shout like that!”   
They both looked away and Monty Burns realised that he had just destroyed the date’s beginning by screaming at Smithers.  
“Apology accepted,” he whislered, “I’m…you know…for screaming at you.”  
They both looked at each other in embarrassment and they were reminded of the situation’s awkwardness. That moment Monty Burns felt terrified beyond belief. He was doing it. He was going out with Smithers, he was destroying everything, he was losing Smithers forever… He… He…  
He felt his breadth shorten, his knees weak and Waylon Smithers had to dive and catch him as he collapsed on the floor heaving.  
“Smithers… something…fiendish… is… happening… to… me” he said breathlessly and with much fear.  
Had Smithers been a caretaker or a nurse, he would have not gone to such a no-nonsense mode so quickly. He removed the man’s jacket, loosened the tie and collar and held him closer to his arms as he took the blood pressure.   
“There, there,” Charles Montgomery Burns heard him coax, “take a deep breath – in and out, in and out – good.”  
Following his instructions Monty Burns managed to control his breathing. He felt dizzy, weak and so very old. Smithers’ cool hand petted his temple and the old man felt calm and strangely secure in his arms.  
“What are you agonising about?” Smithers asked him softly, while petting his temple, “You never had a panic attack before. Not even when Simpson took the Power Plant away from you.”  
“It’s just that…” Mr Burns started, inhaling and exhaling deeply, “Oh Smithers I’m doing it all wrong. I’m shouting at you - ON OUR DATE! I’m not even sure I can give you affection. You’ll get bored of me so soon I just know it!”  
“I don’t know whether to laugh or feel offended now,” Smithers stopped him with a serious expression, clutching him closer, “I told you before. I don’t care if you’re old, mean, or doing everything wrong. I don’t expect you to get younger or more exciting. I don’t expect you to change! I like you the way you are. Mean, pompous, arrogant and determined. As for affection, well take your time. I’m not in a hurry.”   
"But you left me. You left the Plant we worked so hard on!"

"Truth is," Smithers said with a sigh, "I was burnt. I felt that I had spent the last twenty years giving and giving and giving and – well – I felt I was getting nothing in return. When I took the decision to leave you I was at my breaking point. I knew I am in love with you but, well I just couldn't give you any more. I had lost myself in the process – Smithers did not exist anymore. I was just an assistant doing my job mechanically."  
Monty Burns looked at the man that held him. It was so rare to hear Smithers express himself it caused him this strange feeling. It caused him to even feel a lump in his throat.

"Look Waylon," he finally said, "I know I'm crude and callous and really horrible but, well, the thing is, under this harsh exterior I do care for you. I always did. You're the only person I can have a descent conversation with; and the only one with brains good enough to be my assistant. In fact when you're gone for too long I think I'm going mad!"

"Oh," Smithers let out and a smile lit his features. He helped Mr. Burns to his feet. "Listen sir," he said with a soft blush, "If you're willing to wait a bit longer, I'd like to return to the Plant in a month or two."

"Hmm," Monty Burns thought seriously, "With two conditions."

"I'm all ears."

"First of all you might need to be a bit patient with me for awhile. Let's be a platonic couple for the time being."

"I've waited for twenty years, a few months more is of no importance so I accept. What's the second condition?"

"You'll let me revise your old contract and if you agree we will, then, sign."

"Ok, but don't try to cheat on my wages just because we are dating."

"Smithers," the old man said in mock shock, "Do you think I'm the kind of man to do that?"

"Yes sir!"

"Excellent! I have always thought you were brighter than you let out," he said in satisfaction as they moved towards the mansion's garage.

"Thank you for the compliment."  
Suddenly Monty Burns stopped, making Smithers to turn around quizzically. He blushed furiously and loosened his tie a little.

"Waylon… I was wondering… Can I hold your hand? For a start – till we get to my limo – if it's ok with you," he asked shyly and for a second Smithers cursed himself for agreeing for them to be platonic. He would have loved to kiss him at that moment.

-)-)-)

The doorbell rang and Monty Burns looked at himself in the mirror. It had been a month since that first date with Smithers. Things had progressed slowly. He sometimes frustrated himself because he always caught himself doing things totally wrong. He had regretted so many times for the hard things he uttered without thinking and he often wondered how Waylon could be so patient with him. He knew that if he had acted like that with any other date he would have ended alone.

"Smithers is that you?" he asked as he heard the door opening.

"Yes sir!"  
"Give me a minute will you?" he said fixing his tie and marching down the stairs, "Well, well you do look smart tonight Smithers," he commented at the younger man's suit.

"Thank you sir, but what's the occasion? You haven't told me why we are going to such an expensive restaurant tonight."

"For two reasons… Number one is to celebrate your return to work. I had to work with that underdeveloped baboon today – that guy on sector 7G – Bartholomew's father – oh what's his name again?"

"Homer Simpson sir."  
"Let me just tell you he had the intelligence of an amoeba. I wonder why I hired him… But I am missing the point. Waylon I'm so glad you are coming back to work," he said in rare fondness causing the younger man to blush from happiness.

"It was an offer I could not refuse. I heard a rumour that the plant's owner is very handsome – plus he is willing to offer me the position of the Vice President."

Monty Burns cackled and coughed in embarrassment.

"And the second reason for tonight's dinner?"

"The second reason…Hmm… I can't recall it… Smithers have I mentioned it on the phone? Ah yes, now I remember."

He planted his lips against the other man's so unexpectedly that Smithers froze and then withdrew quickly with a shout of surprise. Charles Montgomery Burns snorted.

"Way to ruin a perfectly good first kiss Waylon!"

"Why do you always do that?" Smithers protested in his defence, "I told you not to go around kissing people like that."

"I'm not kissing people around. I'm kissing YOU Smithers," Monty Burns pouted in return, "I demand a retrial."

He grasped Smithers by the collar for a French kiss. Smithers staggered from the ecstasy he felt.

"We need to go," Smithers commented with a sigh of delight as they parted for a moment, "We're going to lose our table."

"Screw the table I'll order take-out. You're my assistant Waylon and I'm not letting you go again. Ever!" Monty Burns replied quickly and resumed kissing him, not letting the man's bowtie from his grasp.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read my fanfic. I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
